


Forget-Me-Not

by halictus



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Non-Magical, Amnesia, Angst with a Happy Ending, Desi James Potter, Latino Remus Lupin, M/M, Memory Loss, Physical Disability, Scientist Sirius Black
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-03
Updated: 2021-01-09
Packaged: 2021-03-12 19:29:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 12,975
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28515708
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/halictus/pseuds/halictus
Summary: For someone who just woke up with amnesia and a bad concussion, Remus Lupin isn't too dispirited. He'll get through it with the help of his friends, taking it one day at a time, as Sirius says. The only (other) problem? There's something important that he's forgetting.
Relationships: Sirius Black/Remus Lupin
Comments: 66
Kudos: 148





	1. -45

**Author's Note:**

> This story was inspired by a Moth Podcast. The story was [Deja Vu, Again,](https://themoth.org/stories/deja-vu-again) told by Cole Kazdin.
> 
> Come say hi on Tumblr! Here is a link: [@halictus-writer](https://halictus-writer.tumblr.com)

After it happened, all Remus wanted to do was forget. 

A deep pain lived inside those memories, wound even through the joy and the good. Many nights he would lie awake, staring at the ceiling, reliving one of the happier moments. But it would always twist into the last day-- the last days-- when everything became muddled and deformed. The glass of water on his bedside table was never able to rinse out the lingering taste of ash in his mouth, but the phone next to it taunted him with the promise that it could. He resisted its pull, and always grabbed a random book instead. 

All Remus wanted to do was forget. 

He got his wish.

***

Remus woke up. His senses slowly filtered in the sound of a beeping machine and bright fluorescent lights. He was in a hospital room, alone. Something in his mind told him it would hurt to sit up, so he laid still. After a moment, he realized the beeping sound was synchronized to his heartbeat. He spent a few moments holding his breath and listening as the beeps slowed, before exhaling and letting it return to a more regular pace.

His left wrist was wrapped in something white, but his right was bare. He looked pale, but the contrast was still sharp between his evenly brown skin and the hospital’s dull whiteness. Something about that was amusing, but he couldn’t remember why. Remus closed his eyes, and allowed the evenly-spaced beeps to lull him back under the grips of sleep.

When he woke again, the room was filled with people. Some of them were dressed as doctors or nurses, but most of them weren’t. None of them looked familiar. The two people closest to his bed were both incredibly good-looking, the man tall and thin, the woman short and fat. When the red-haired woman saw him looking at them, she jumped.

“He’s awake!” She said. “Remus, you’re going to be fine, just don’t move too much right now, and the doctors said you should get your memory back soon.”

Remus looked at her in surprise. Moving around didn’t seem like a good idea anyway, so he was happy to agree with her there. But what did she mean about getting his memory back? What was he forgetting?

“Who are you?” Remus ventured cautiously. 

The woman smiled sadly and reached out a hand to gently squeeze his forearm. “I’m Lily,” she said. She began pointing to others in the room. “This is James, Marlene, Dorcas, Peter is one of your nurses but we’re adopting him into the friend group after you get better, that doctor over there is- well she’s leaving now apparently, but her name is McGonagall and she is very good. You’re in good hands.”

Remus looked at each person in the room intensely, trying to make meaning of their appearances and clothing. James looked like he was possibly Desi, Dorcas was Black, Marlene and Lily were white. Peter looked like a mouse. But if he wasn’t a part of their friend group yet then it was okay if he didn’t look familiar. Remus looked at the other four again. Nothing.

“What happened?” Remus asked.

“You were in an accident,” Lily answered calmly. Remus didn’t miss the concerned look Marlene shot Dorcas, and he wondered if he had said something wrong. “Don’t worry Remus, just get some more rest. Also, Sirius is on his way, he’ll be here soon.”

“Sirius,” Remus repeated, head already sinking back into his pillow. The name sounded familiar, and he liked the way it felt in his mouth, slowly enunciating the three syllables. 

“Lily?” Remus suddenly asked.

“Yes?” She answered eagerly, crouching down with a huge smile. The others in the room looked optimistic about something.

“What happened?” Remus asked. 

Her face immediately fell, and he suddenly wondered if he said the wrong thing. “It’s going to be okay, Remus, just get some rest.”

***

Remus woke up. He felt groggy, and he tried to sit up, but he couldn’t move his left hand enough to get it underneath him. He looked at it and was confused to see it wrapped in white bandages littered with black sharpie doodles and words. “James Potter” was written at least a dozen times, next to little hopeful messages from three other styles of handwriting: signed Dorcas, Marls, or Lily. He didn’t remember anyone with those names, but something felt familiar. Suddenly, he realized that he had met them earlier, in this room, but the memory felt fuzzy somehow.

“James got a little carried away there, sorry I wasn’t here to stop him.”

Remus turned his head to the side to see that his otherwise empty hospital room had one other man inside. A very striking looking man, with short black hair and multiple silver rings on his fingers. His eyes were different colors.

“Sirius,” Remus whispered.

“You remember me?” Sirius asked incredulously. 

“No,” Remus said. Sirius nodded, as if he expected the response. But he also looked slightly relieved, Remus thought. 

“Hey, I brought you this notepad. I thought you might want to jot down notes about important things before you get all of your memories back.” Sirius handed over a lined yellow legal pad, and a ballpoint pen.

Remus accepted the offering with his good hand and used his teeth to uncap the pen, but was suddenly stuck. “I don’t remember anything that I should write,” he confessed. “What’s important?”

Sirius smiled warmly. “Well, for one, I’m your best friend. You could start with that.”

Remus suddenly felt very sleepy, and stifled a yawn with the notepad.  _ Sirius- best friend _ , he wrote, before beginning to drift off. He felt Sirius take the pad and pen out of his hand, and slender fingers combed through the curls on his forehead one time before he fell asleep again.

***

Remus woke up. He didn’t know where he was, and he looked around with wide eyes. “¿Dondé estoy?” He asked in mild panic. 

A handsome man shook his head with a smile. “Nope, no hablo español. You speak English too.” His Spanish accent was horrible.

“Oh,” Remus frowned. “You’re Sirius.”

Sirius smiled. “Yep, your best friend, remember?” He pointed to the notepad that was now lying open on the side of Remus’s hospital bed.

_ Sirius- best friend, gringo.  _ Underneath, in a handwriting that was not his own:  _ Remus- bilingual, Latino, snarky.  _ Remus read it and laughed. A couple of memories came back to him, sporadic clips from the past few hours. 

“That wasn’t the first time I woke up and spoke to you in Spanish, was it?”

“Nope, but I’m glad you can remember the other times, even if just a little bit.”

Remus frowned. “What’s wrong with my memory? Have I asked that before? Why haven’t I written it down?”

“Hey, it’s okay,” Sirius soothed. “Don’t worry, the doctor said it would be the worst at first, but you’ll get better at remembering recent stuff soon, and eventually it should all come back.”

“After how long?” Remus asked, worried to hear the answer.

“They don’t know,” Sirius replied with a sad smile. 

“I guess that’s why I haven’t written it down then,” Remus said wryly.

Sirius exhaled a puff of air in amusement. “I’m glad your unique sense of humor is still intact. Here, while you’re awake, write this down: your left wrist is broken, but will heal fine if you keep the cast on for the next five or six weeks. You have a bad concussion, which is why you’re so tired, but they did scans and it’ll be fine in a while.”

Remus jotted down the notes. “And what happened in the first place? How did I get hurt?”

Sirius looked apprehensive. “You kind of, got hit by a car.”

Remus grimaced. “That’s embarrassing. I’m not writing that down.” He started to feel drowsy again, but suddenly had another question. “How old am I?”

“You are twenty-three,” Sirius stated. “So am I.”

***

Remus woke up to whispered chatter. One hushed voice spoke excitedly above the others, “he’s awake!” Remus looked around the hospital room to see an attractive man-- Sirius, he remembered-- a tall and short couple, whom he had met before but needed to get Sirius’s help in writing their names down, and two women who he was pretty sure he knew. “Okay, 1, 2, 3,” the redhead prompted.

Bizarrely, the five people began singing “Happy Birthday” to him, as one of them produced assorted cupcakes and plenty of packaged appetizer foods including cheese, salami, crackers, and dried mango. 

“Oh my god, is it my birthday?” Remus asked, horrified.

Sirius grinned. “Nope, but the charge nurse told us we couldn’t bring all of the food in here so we whined and said you were going to celebrate your birthday  _ alone _ in the  _ hospital _ without any cake until he let us go.”

The Desi man jumped in with a quip. “I think he was just sick of you harassing him.”

Sirius waved him off, and then turned to Remus to quickly remind him of everyone’s names. James, Lily, Marlene, Dorcas. He would remember this time, so he didn’t write them down. It would be rude to do so in front of them anyway, he reasoned.

Soon enough, snacks were being passed around. Sirius got up to hand Remus a chocolate cupcake with chocolate icing, without asking him which one he preferred. Remus frowned at the slightly inconsiderate gesture, but decided to not say anything. He didn’t want to appear ungrateful, since clearly these people were already doing a lot for him, including lying to hospital staff to sneak in food just to be nice.

Apparently, he didn’t do a good job of hiding his discontent. “What, you don’t like that one?” Sirius asked, brow knitted.

“Oh, um, no it’s great, thanks for handing it to me,” Remus attempted to circumnavigate the issue. He stole another glance at the other cupcakes though. There were a few vanilla ones, and ones with what he guessed to be either peanut butter or coffee flavored icing.

Sirius scoffed and presented the vanilla cupcake he had just taken a bite out of in front of Remus’s face. “You hate vanilla cake, here, let me remind you.”

Remus almost laughed at the familiarity of the gesture. He hardly knew this man, and here he was, assuming that they would both be okay sharing germs through food. Mentally shrugging, he took a bite out of the white cupcake.

The five people watched as he chewed and then grimaced. “It’s just, bland,” he complained. 

“See?” Sirius cried.

“You are a literal chocolic,” either Dorcas or Marlene said; he wasn’t sure who was who. 

“A danger to dogs everywhere,” the other woman chimed in.

The group fell into comfortable conversation as they ate, and Remus mostly listened. It seemed like he had a pretty cool group of friends if today’s conversations were anything to judge by. When James passed him the paper plate with cheese and salami, he grabbed one of each.

“Wait, stop!” Lily suddenly cried out. “You’re a pescetarian!” Remus froze with the piece of salami midway to his mouth. Marlene and Dorcas broke into a loud laughter, and James turned into one of those silent laughers who stayed mostly still but got progressively more red in the face and began crying when they were truly amused. 

Lily had said the words with such conviction, that, while Remus truly felt that he could have been eating a turkey leg and not maintained any personal qualms about it, he lowered the salami and quickly wrote  _ I am a pescetarian _ on his notepad. 

“Good catch Lils,” Sirius said, eyes on Remus. “He hasn’t eaten meat in so long that I doubt his gut bacteria would be able to break it down right now. He probably would’ve gotten sick.”

“Thank you for the report Mr. Bio major,” Lily said, frowning at the piece of salami in her own hand. “Now I don’t want to eat this.”

“Marine bio,” Sirius corrected, “and you’re welcome.”

Remus had a good time with his friends, and was touched that they all wanted to spend time with him even while he was stuck in the hospital. But after yawning a few times, Sirius ushered everyone out of the room, much to his nurse’s gratification. Remus took a few moments to jot down notes on his notepad before falling asleep again. 

***

“You have different colored eyes,” Remus stated, pen in hand, determined to learn and remember Sirius’s answer. “Why?”

“Microphthalmia,” Sirius enunciated, “is a disease that results in one or both eyes being smaller than it should be at birth. I’m lucky, I lost my right eye but still have vision in my left. So the right one is a prosthetic. My real eye is blue, the prosthetic is brown.”

Remus nodded, confident he had misspelled the condition name but listened to Sirius’s personal experience with the disease attentively. “And you chose to get a different color for the prosthetic?”

Sirius smiled almost sheepishly. “I thought it would look cool. Also, it kind of highlights the fact that I’m not trying to blend in, you know? One of my eyes is fake, who cares, I’m not trying to fool anybody.”

Remus smiled. “It does look cool,” he affirmed. As Sirius reached a hand towards the brown eye, Remus suddenly paled. “Wait, no, not necessary-” but Sirius had already popped the eye out of the socket.

“It’s actually plastic, even though most people think they’re glass. And look, a half circle, not a sphere.” Sirius held the eye in front of Remus’s face, and Remus nodded silently.

“Very nice,” he said curtly.

***

When he was finally ready to leave the hospital, Sirius stood by as he swung his legs out from the bed covers. He gasped when he saw his feet. Or, rather, foot.

“You didn’t tell me I lost my left foot!” He accused, looking at Sirius.

Sirius laughed, gesturing to the prosthetic at the base of the bed that looked vaguely familiar. “I didn’t think I needed to. You were born without it.”

“Oh, that does sound familiar,” Remus acquiesced, but remained seated on the bed. “Weird.”

“It’s not weird,” Sirius said decisively. “You’re completely able to walk and do everything else with your prosthetic, just don’t worry about it,” Sirius reassured. Remus followed his advice, and found that he was right.

As they left the hospital, Sirius was given many items and instructions. Remus felt mildly offended that the doctors weren’t talking directly to him, the patient, but gave them the benefit of the doubt. For all he knew, they had already explained these things to him twice.

Eventually, Sirius had been given all the instructions necessary, and he guided Remus into the outside world. After a moment of walking on the sidewalk, Sirius stopped and switched places with him, so that Remus was to his left.

“You were in my blindspot,” he explained. 

Remus furrowed his brow, trying to understand his meaning. When Sirius began to reach for his right eye, however, Remus suddenly remembered. “Wait no, don’t take it out, I remember, I remember.” Sirius laughed, and thankfully left the brown eye in place.

“Oh!” Sirius said suddenly. “Here’s this, they took it off of you when you first came in, I’ve kept it safe ever since.” Sirius held out a silver crucifix necklace. 

Remus didn’t grab it. “That’s not mine.”

“Yeah it is,” Sirius argued, “and it’s very important to you, because your mom gave it to you right before you moved out to go to college.”

“Am I Catholic?” Remus said, feeling stupid.

Sirius grinned. “Two months ago you would have been very offended to hear yourself say that.”

Remus rolled his eyes. “I mean, fine, give me the necklace. But for all I care it could be a Star of David.”

Sirius laughed heartily. “I’m so glad your sense of humor is still intact.”

Remus slipped the necklace over his neck, and tucked it under his collar reflexively. Maybe he had worn it before, he realized. As they walked down the block, he suddenly realized he didn’t know where they were going. “Where do I live?” he asked.

“Where do  _ we _ live,” Sirius corrected. “We’re roommates, and our apartment is a very charming little shoebox three blocks away. Expensive and small, but nice. Being there may jog your memory.”

“Oh god,” Remus said. “How expensive are my medical bills?”

Sirius shook his head fondly. “Looks like your humor  _ and  _ your thriftiness survived the accident. Don’t worry, everything is taken care of. Insurance paid for everything so far, and James’s parents already filed a lawsuit that will cover any future physical therapy and medications.”

Remus nodded. He was beginning to understand the fact that he didn’t really know who he was. He didn’t know his relationship to the friends who were there for him in the hospital, and he didn’t know much about himself. The notes he had been taking were helpful in reminding him of certain things, like what happened to his wrist, what he doesn’t eat, and how old he is. But did that really add up to a person? There was still so much he didn’t know.

When all of his friends were in the hospital room, who was he closest to? He would guess it was Sirius, based on context, but he didn’t really have anything to support that claim. What conversations had they had, what was he supposed to already know? Why was he friends with these people? What did he like about them, beyond their obvious support of him and the fact that they all lied to the hospital staff in order to bring him cupcakes. What did they like about him? What if he was an asshole?

“You’re overthinking something,” Sirius interrupted his thoughts. “Just don’t worry right now, we’ll get you inside and then you can go straight to bed.”

“Okay,” Remus said, following Sirius up a staircase. “Thanks,” he added as an afterthought. If he used to be an asshole, then he was going to start being very polite from here on out.

Getting ready for bed was easy. His body was able to flow through a routine without his mind needing to think about it, and Sirius apparently knew all of his steps well enough to assist him when he got stuck. 

“All right, which pills am I supposed to take at night?” Remus asked.

Sirius pointed to the empty water glass on his nightstand. “You just took them. Here, let’s do a sticky note system for meds. The notepad can stay personal.” He guided Remus into writing a note, and then adjusted the covers back on top of him. 

“Wait, I want to call my mom,” Remus said. “But I don’t know her number. Will you help me?” Sirius’s face was blank but slightly concerned. He looked to be mulling something over in his mind, but Remus didn’t know why. “Please?” He added out loud, and  _ why aren’t you helping me? _ in his head.

“Remus,” Sirius said delicately. “We  _ could _ call your mom, but it would be the fourth time we’ve called her. And I’m just worried that we would start to scare her.”

Remus felt his eyes begin to burn, and he looked away from Sirius. He tried to focus on breathing, and not on the possibility of crying in front of someone he didn’t know well enough to feel comfortable crying in front of, but was supposed to.

“Her English isn’t bad,” Sirius continued, “but usually when I talk to her you would translate, and I don’t think I’ve done a good job of explaining what happened, aside from the fact that you’re going to be okay.”

“Okay,” Remus said. “I think I’m just going to go to sleep. Thank you, for everything.”

“Hey, you don’t need to thank me. We’re just going to go one day at a time.” Sirius patted Remus’s shoulder softly. “Goodnight Remus.”

“Goodnight Sirius.”


	2. -44 to -15

When Remus woke up the next morning, he glanced at the clock on his bedside table and jumped out of bed. If he rushed, he could still be on time for work, but only if Sirius dropped him off at the bookstore on his way to the lab. He quickly and efficiently hopped towards the bathroom on his right foot, bracing his weight with his arms. He didn’t sleep with the prosthetic left foot on, and he certainly didn’t shower with it. 

As he made the turn from his bedroom into the hallway, a turn he had done hundreds of times like this, requiring him to lean down on his left hand and make a large pivot with his right leg, he realized that his left wrist was in a cast. He remembered.

Sirius’s head poked out from the end of the hall. His short black hair was still tousled from sleep, coffee mug clutched in his silver ringed fingers. “Good morning,” he ventured, eye taking in Remus’s appearance, probably trying to figure out what he was doing.

Remus frowned. “I don’t have work today, I’m assuming.” He shook his head, as if it would help clear his mind. “I was on autopilot for a second there, but I just remembered.” 

“Maybe being home is going to help you remember some things. Do you know where you used to work?” Sirius asked, now leaning against the hall bookshelf.

“A bookstore,” Remus answered. “And you work at a lab. For biology?”

“Marine biology, yeah,” Sirius beamed. “You remembered.”

Remus nodded, matching Sirius’s position to take the weight off his arms. “But shouldn’t you be going? Aren’t you going to be late for work?”

Sirius’s expression faltered for a second. Remus may not be remembering everything, but he has definitely seen this face before, usually on one of his friends after he asks what he thinks is a normal question. “I took some time off,” Sirius eventually answered, “but I’ll be going back eventually.”

“Oh, okay,” Remus said. 

“Hey, why don’t you shower while I get breakfast going? You’re supposed to take your morning meds with food anyway.” Sirius turned back into the kitchen, apparently not waiting for a response from Remus. 

Remus entered the bathroom and turned the water on, before yawning at his reflection in the mirror. He had just removed his shirt when Sirius walked through the door, not bothering to knock. “Woah, a little privacy?” 

“Remus, we’ve seen each other naked multiple times.”

“Sirius, for all I know, you could be the mailman.”

Sirius laughed. “But you know my name! Here, give me your left hand.” Sirius proceeded to wrap his cast in a plastic bag, taping it down at the edges, to protect it from the water.

“Oh, I definitely didn’t think of that,” Remus muttered. He felt his cheeks redden at his earlier rebuttal of Sirius barging in, only to find that the other man was right. It didn’t have anything to do with their proximity, though.

As he showered, Remus started to remember something, but it was blurry on the edges and hard to grasp. It involved Sirius, and it was important, but he didn’t know what it was. Seeing the two of them standing next to each other, reflected in the bathroom mirror had prompted it, but wasn’t the actual memory. Frustrated, Remus tried to ignore it.

After his shower, Remus walked into the kitchen to find Sirius slicing strawberries, with eggs and toast already cooked and being kept warm on the stove. Breakfast was delicious, and Remus wrote a few facts on his notepad during the meal.

Suddenly, he felt very sleepy. “Hey, am I allowed to have caffeine with my meds? I should probably take the morning ones soon, right?”

“You already took them,” Sirius said, pointing to a sticky note next to an assortment of pill bottles. “You should probably get some more rest, you were sleeping a lot more in the hospital.” 

Remus remembered putting some weight on Sirius’s shoulder in the hallway, and then he was laying down in bed. “Get some sleep, I’ll be here all day if you need anything,” The warm voice sounded like it was coming from underwater, and Remus’s eyes closed as gentle fingers carded through his hair.

***

Remus dreamt of Sirius. The dream was mundane, domestic, but something about it differed from reality. As they moved through their morning routine, it seemed like they were happier, closer, somehow. After brushing their teeth in the bathroom together, Sirius pressed a quick kiss to Remus’s cheek, and he woke up.

He only took a moment to remember where he was, but when he did, his wide eyes did not calm down. Remus’s dream-self wanted Sirius to kiss him on the cheek? What did that mean? And again, what was it that he was forgetting?

Since it wasn’t exactly a topic he could broach with Sirius, Remus jotted it down in a small notebook in his nightstand. He vaguely recalled buying the little book to construct a gratitude journal, but neglected to fill any pages beyond the first two. 

During dinner, which Sirius made while Remus took another nap, Sirius showed Remus hundreds of pictures on his phone. There were shots of the two of them at various locales, shots of their larger friend group, Halloween costumes, parties, and graduations. There was no magical moment when the past came rushing back to Remus, but the emotions from certain photographs felt familiar. He would often stop Sirius from swiping to ask about the people in the frame, or the occasion for a gathering. Remus took some notes, but he mostly just listened to Sirius.

One photo was a selfie of Remus and Sirius, standing together on a pier. When he saw it, Remus immediately felt a wave of pure and inexplicable sadness. Something about that photograph just  _ ached _ for Remus, in a way that he didn’t understand, yet completely  _ felt. _ By the time he recovered from the shock to find his voice, Sirius was already swiping away. “Where was that taken?” Remus managed to ask.

“Oh, uh, just a trip to San Diego,” Sirius frowned, scrolling into a new chunk of images from a different date. Remus nodded, and tried to forget the photo.

Sirius had an exceptional ability for making Remus laugh, and he would often spin elaborate tales about their friends, exaggerating their traits and then drilling Remus on them satirically.

“Who has an Afro?”

“Dorcas!” Remus answered.

“Who drove everyone in the friend group crazy by pining after Lily Evans for two entire years without making a move?”

“James!”

“What did you major in during college?”

Remus furrowed his brow. He wasn’t sure. “Was it literature? Or maybe history?”

Sirius nodded encouragingly. “Both, you double majored. What did I major in?”

“Marine biology.”

Sirius grinned. “Correct again, Lupin.”

***

Some days were worse than others. His memory could usually restore itself to most events since the accident, but at times he temporarily lost certain pieces of the timeline. One morning, after Sirius stopped Remus from taking a second dose of his meds, Remus noticed the other man’s eyes for the first time.

“You have different colored eyes?”

Sirius took a deep breath. “I have a prosthetic right eye because it had to be removed when I was a baby. I chose a different color for the prosthetic to be unique.”

“You did it to make your parents mad,” Remus said with newfound conviction.

Sirius’s mood immediately shifted. He turned his back to Remus and focused on the plates in the sink. “You should probably rest now,” he said, void of emotion. “We’re leaving for your physical therapy in two hours.”

***

At other times, it was easy. Remus and Sirius hosted a weekly game night with their friends, and after a quick reminder before they arrived, Remus could speak to all four of the visitors confidently. It was often during these events, however, when he was struck by the thought that there was something important to remember, but it was just out of reach. 

“Hey, Lily?” He ventured, one day, while the others were in the living room, arguing over who got to be which piece in Monopoly. 

“What’s up?” She asked, leaning back against the counter. 

“Are Marlene and Dorcas, like, together?” It wasn’t exactly the question he wanted to ask, but it was a roundabout way of getting there. Safer, if not easier. Altogether, a very Remus strategy.

Lily laughed. “Well, no,” she said, “but I think everyone else sees their sexual tension, even if they don’t yet.”

“But is that okay, like, it would be okay, right? For them to be together?”

“Remus,” she said, voice softening. “Of course it would be okay. That’s something that you and I have talked about a good amount before, seeing as we were both raised Catholic. Anyone can love who they love, including you.”

He felt himself redden, and focused on squeezing his crucifix necklace. “Is, um. Is anyone in this friend group, like, out?”

Lily studied the cabinet behind Remus’s head for a second before answering. “I don’t think so. But I am confident that everyone would be accepting if anyone was.” 

This news felt like something to write down, but Remus inexplicably felt the need to keep it from Sirius. He took a quick journey to his bedroom to scribble down his conversation with Lily, before returning to the game in the living room. Sirius had saved him the dog player piece. “The canine for Werewolf McWerewolf,” he said with a flourish.

***

Eventually, Sirius returned to work. A little while after that, the bookstore agreed to schedule Remus for shifts again, strictly cashiering, seeing as his wrist wouldn’t allow him to lift the heavy shipment boxes, and his memory wasn’t quite ready to write recommendations for previously-read books on their weekly newsletters. 

The two roommates adapted into their new routines. Sirius would drop Remus off at the bookstore on his way to the lab, and Remus would get a ride from a coworker back home (Sirius had forbidden him from taking the bus after a poorly-timed schedule change that left Remus confused and stranded at the wrong stop). Sirius did the shopping and Remus did most of the cooking, although he needed to be reminded to tone down the spice when he cooked one of his mom’s recipes. Otherwise, Sirius would refuse to admit defeat, sweating and coughing as he ate the food Remus had no trouble with. 

On days with a physical therapy appointment, Sirius would adjust his lab schedule to attend the session. Remus’s physical therapist quickly learned that she needed to teach Sirius the assigned motions and workouts if she wanted Remus to remember to do them at home. Remus didn’t expect physical therapy for a broken wrist to be so exhausting, but his physical therapist, who was very intimidating (the woman had introduced herself simply as “Coach”) seemed to believe that Remus was in need of a whole-body boot camp. 

“Come on, Lupin,” she shouted louder than necessary in the small gym. “Squat like you mean it, ten more reps!”

Sirius, on the sidelines, laughed unhelpfully. “Are you sure he’s not going to end up buff everywhere except his left arm?” So far, the wrist exercises had been much more reasonable by comparison, with things like “move your fingers” and “make a fist.”

“Drop and give me twenty, Black!” Coach yelled back. As a shocked Sirius got into pushup position, she continued to speak as if every word was followed by an exclamation point. “You need to keep your whole body in shape while you recover from an injury! A healthy body can prevent further injuries!”

Remus laughed as Sirius completed his push ups correctly while she watched, but merely counted aloud as he laid on the ground when her attention was on Remus instead.

***

One morning, Remus woke to find Sirius in bed next to him. Shocked, he sat up, and tried to desperately recall what happened the previous night. Sirius started to stir as Remus moved.

“Oh, sorry,” Sirius said in a scratchy morning voice. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes, more gentle with the blue than the brown. “I must have fallen asleep here.”

“Um. What?” was all Remus could say.

“Your medications give you nightmares sometimes. I usually go back to my own bed after you calm down.”

Remus’s eyebrows rose. He stupidly wished that he had slept with a shirt on last night, before remembering that Sirius helps him cover his cast for showers while shirtless most days anyway. “And you help me fall back asleep when I have nightmares?”

Sirius nodded. “You usually cry out and thrash around a bit, so I just hold you until you relax again.”

“How often?”

“Most nights.”

As he showered, Remus reflected on this new information. Sirius wakes up in the middle of the night, often, to come into Remus’s room and hold him during his medication-induced nightmares. Sirius also reminds him to take his medication, patiently explains and re-explains things to him, drives him to work, and encourages him to socialize with the friends that he only knows because of Sirius’s help. Sirius takes care of him.

He looked down to see the arm that Sirius had just wrapped in plastic, protecting the cast from the water. Sirius protects him, as best he can, from the fallout of his amnesia. 

Did this all add up to something more than a close friendship? Like many things these days, Remus couldn’t be confident about his answer. It was a simple equation, really, just the addition of two properties. First, how Sirius felt. Second, how Remus felt. But, no, something was missing. An outside factor, term, multiplier or coefficient, that when introduced, changes the entire system. A missing variable, a statistic, a  _ memory.  _

Most days, Remus tried not to feel sorry for himself. Yes, he had been in a life-changing accident, it wasn’t his fault, and he was still discovering the implications of his altered memory every day. But, he could focus on the positives. He had an excellent group of friends who were supportive of him. Sirius took care of almost all of his needs, and James’s parents were working hard to ensure he was represented accurately in court to receive the proper financial compensation for the accident.

And yet, his life wasn’t the same. A single event had pushed him onto an entirely new path. It was a trail that may point towards the same direction as his previous one, but wound up and around itself, stalling, tiring, carving up rocky terrain and then back down into frozen gulleys. It was hard. And sometimes he couldn’t help but feel sorry for himself.

It seemed that today was one of those moments. While drying off with a towel held mostly in one hand, Remus looked into a fogged mirror and studied his reflection. He is a pescetarian. His wrist is broken. He isn’t an asshole. He likes chocolate. He has memory problems but they should get better over time. Sirius is his best friend.

One of those items in the list wasn’t completely correct, and Remus had a good guess as for which one it was. 


	3. -10 (and -93)

Remus read through his ever-increasing list of facts.

_ You are a pescetarian. You are snarky. You speak Spanish, Sirius does not. Your wrist will heal. Your memory will come back. Your favorite flavor is chocolate. _

_ Sirius is your best friend. He’s a gringo, and he can’t handle spicy foods. He works in a marine biology lab, and he’s really good at it. He takes care of you. _

_ You work at a bookstore, but only for cashiering. You were applying to graduate schools before the accident, but you’re going to wait another year now.  _

_ Marlene and Dorcas are into each other but no one knows. James and Lily are into each other and everyone knows way too much. _

_ Sirius has Microphthalmia. You don’t have a left foot. Sirius helps you when you have nightmares, and he helps you cover your cast before you shower. _

_ Caradoc is your coworker who is slutty. _

Did it add up to a person? It added up to something. As Remus’s days post-accident continued to plod along, he was forced to make peace with his new normal. There was no fight, and no big important moment where it all  _ changed _ . Time pulled him along, gently but persistently, until he was so far into this routine, where Sirius makes sure he’s taken his medications and drives him to his appointments, where he reads his list and wonders if he was an asshole. 

It was four in the afternoon. Sirius wouldn’t be home for another hour, so Remus looked around for something to do that would keep him busy and help out around their apartment. The dishes were put away, so he decided to check for mail. 

As he ambled down the stairs to the P.O. Box, he realized that he may have already checked today. He didn’t think he had, but there was no established sticky-note-system that would have been able to stop him if he had. As he turned the key in the lock, however, pieces of mail began to fall out from the narrow box. 

The ubiquitous advertisements disguised as newspapers, the persistent internet provider “upgrade available” letter, and a card addressed to Sirius. The envelope was off-white and substantial, with an elegant handwritten address.  _ Mr. Sirius Black _ , it said. Remus held it with the others as he climbed back up the stairs, and deposited the pile on the kitchen counter. He started to walk away, but caught the return address in the corner of his eye.  _ Scripps Institute of Oceanography. _ Remus froze.

Inexplicably, a wave of emotion crashed over Remus. Standing in the kitchen, in the pre-evening silence, with the purple-blue glow of a sunset through the East-facing window, Remus cried. Tears poured down his face, and he made no move to wipe them away. He didn’t need to remember why to know that this was pure hurt. A memory,  _ the  _ memory, was dislodged but not freed, and he was able to access the pain but not the words that prompted it. Remus thought of court transcriptions. The way that a stenographer documents exactly what is said, when, and by whom, but does not wholly capture the moment. Because the words aren’t as important as the emotion.

He didn’t know how long he stood there. Eventually he wiped his face and took deep breaths, and even later turned on the lights. Remus remembered eighth grade. His English class had a whole unit on argument. They wrote argumentative essays, practiced persuasive speeches, and held in-class debates. The teacher talked about ethos, pathos, and logos. They watched videos of important speeches, and commercials with sad kittens. He remembered one particular assignment which involved picking an argument to make, and having to write an entire page using only one of the three rhetorical appeals. He and most of the class chose to use logos, logic, as it seemed to hold the most weight. Now though, he wasn’t sure.

By the time Sirius returned home, Remus had mostly recovered. He was a bit quieter during dinner, but Sirius didn’t say anything about it. He himself seemed a little distant, ever since taking the stack of mail into his bedroom. The two men moved through their normal routine nonetheless. Remus had cooked, Sirius had set the table, they washed the dishes side-by-side afterwards. They did a short after-dinner walk, and soon enough Remus was in bed, being presented with pills by Sirius. 

He took the proffered medicine, and reclined into his pillows. Sirius, slowly and diligently, wrote on a sticky note, to remind Remus that he had taken his meds, when he would inevitably ask in five minutes if he had taken his meds. In the moment, something clicked.

Sirius took care of Remus. In every way. Ever since the first day at the hospital, and ever since being home, and then going back for appointments and checkups, physical therapy and work, Sirius was with him. Helping him get through it. He very easily could have let Remus navigate this problem on his own. It was, after all, his own. Sirius didn’t need to put his life on hold to make Remus’s recovery easier. But he did. And he was. Is that not love?

Remus had slowly been more sure of his own feelings over time. He loved Sirius. He must have always, even since before the accident. But if the events of before never truly came back to him, he still had the after. He had the moments with Sirius taking care of him, he got to see Sirius’s kind smile, Sirius’s passion for his research, and Sirius’s encouragement when Remus began to tell him something that happened  _ before.  _ He loved Sirius.

“Sirius?” Remus felt his heart rate increase. At the foot of the bed, Sirius sat with the pill bottles and the sticky notes held in one hand, sharpie pen just-capped in the other.

“I love you,” Remus said.

No response.

Because he had amnesia and could get away with it, Remus said it again. “Sirius, I love you,” he repeated.

After a few seconds of agony, Sirius turned towards him slightly, and stared at the floor. “Remus, you don’t know what you’re saying,” he said in a soft voice.

“No, I do, I-” Remus’s brow furrowed, and he took audible breaths. “Have I said this before? Did we have this conversation and I forgot about it?”

Sirius shook his head. “No, not since the accident, no.”

“But… before the accident?” Remus’s voice pitched up into a question at the end, but he knew it was true. All the emotion from before came back-- the emotion from seeing the letter, and the emotion from seeing the selfie, taken on the pier.

“Oh,” Remus exhaled. It was barely audible. “I remember.”

*** 

The weather was irritatingly pleasant. San Diego in March was a sharp contrast to their shared apartment in Northern California. “I’ll have to invest in some new flip flops,” Sirius said with a grin as they stepped off the train together, into the 72 degree air. Remus couldn’t quite match his smile.

They walked through town. Sirius pointed to a food truck with a long line. “Remus, can we get tacos? Please? I’m so hungry.”

Remus laughed. “You don’t need to ask me for permission to get tacos. But if we’re getting tacos, we’re not getting them there.” 

“Why not? You’re wrinkling your nose at me, that means the great Remus Lupin disapproves. Pray tell, what is your wisdom?” Sirius bounced along the street as he spoke, arms moving to add flair to his words. Unlike Remus, Sirius somehow seemed energized by the train ride and the new city. His energy was infectious on good days and virulent on better ones, but today all Remus could do was muster a little laugh as he shook his head.

“We’re not going  _ there, _ ” Remus pointed to the truck, “because all of the customers look like  _ you. _ We’re going to get tacos from somewhere with a menu only in Spanish, and you’re going to stand far enough away from me while I order that they don’t give us white people food.” 

Sirius laughed heartily, and followed his advice. Soon enough, the two men sat across from each other on a small picnic bench, contently eating their Remus-approved tacos.

“So, tomorrow’s the day, yeah?” Remus said, to break the silence.

“Yeah, at eleven a.m. I’ll meet the team. Depending on how it goes at the lab they’ll take me down to the pier, and we may do some sampling. They said it would be over at five by at the latest, since the P.I. kicks researchers out on Friday nights to make sure they ‘have a life.’” Sirius laughed at this, and Remus nodded. “You’ll be alright by yourself for most of the day?”

Remus nodded again. “Yeah, I’m planning on checking out some bookstores. Take your time.”

Sirius gave one of his looks of concern. It was endearing to witness for others, but Remus hoped he never had to get used to being on the receiving end of it. It made him feel weak, but it also gave him lofty ideas about how Sirius actually felt about him. Not a good combination. “You sure you don’t mind?”

Remus took a sip of his water. “Sirius, I knew that we were coming here for you to see the lab, not for us to vacation together. So I will be fine tomorrow while you do the work stuff you actually came here to do.” His words were slightly clipped, and he knew that Sirius would recognize it, but he couldn’t quite help it. He secretly hoped Sirius wouldn’t get along with the other researchers. But that was pointless, since Sirius got along well with everyone.

As it turned out, Sirius loved the lab. He loved the people, and the space, and the potential projects he could start there. He loved telling Remus about how much he loved it. The day after Sirius’s walkthrough, he gave Remus an impromptu tour of the beach and research pier used by the lab. Remus tried to be happy for him.

They took a selfie on the pier. It was windy, and the bright sky made Remus squint a little bit, but they both smiled for the picture. “Remus, what’s wrong?” Sirius asked, seconds after lowering the phone.

Remus groaned. “I’m sorry, I’m not being very supportive right now.” Sirius hummed a noise of assent, and waited for Remus to continue. “This is a big deal for you, and I’m glad that you are excited about it. I just. Wonder how it’s going to cause everything to change.”

“Well,  _ if _ I accept this position, which I haven’t yet, and you know that,” Sirius started, ducking slightly to look into Remus’s eyes squarely. “If I accept it, a few things will change. I would have to move to San Diego, so we wouldn’t be roommates anymore. But we’d still be best friends. You’re applying to graduate programs all over the country, we weren’t going to live in that apartment forever.” 

The logic of it only irked Remus more. He  _ was _ applying to programs all over the country, sure, but what Sirius didn’t know was that he was hoping to get accepted into the same university where he completed his undergraduate degree. The one where he met Sirius, and they would still live in their same town together. But, of course that wasn’t logical. “I’m sorry,” Remus said eventually. “Let’s just enjoy the rest of this trip, yeah?”

After returning from their Southern California adventure, Remus and Sirius returned briefly to their old lives. About a week later, Sirius told Remus that he was going to accept the position at Scripps, and he would be moving to San Diego at the end of the month. 

After five years of living together and a deep friendship that felt permanent, Remus finally mustered the courage to speak his mind. “Sirius, I need to talk to you about something.” They had just finished dinner and settled onto opposite ends of the couch, like most nights.

“Well that’s not ominous,” Sirius said in a joking tone, but his smile didn’t reach his blue eye. He leaned back against the corner of the couch to swing his legs onto the cushion between them.

Silence stretched out between them. Eventually, Remus took a deep breath, suddenly unable to look at Sirius’s face. “I love you. I have feelings for you, as more than a friend.”

Nothing. The refrigerator kept running, and faint music could be heard from another apartment nearby. Otherwise, the men sat in silence. The silence was his answer. Remus knew this, but, as an apparent glutton for punishment, he tore his eyes up to meet Sirius and spoke again. “Well?”

Sirius looked pained. “I, Remus,” he started and stopped. “You don’t know what you’re saying.”

“I do know. I think I’ve felt this way for a long time. I was never really interested in romance, and I didn’t really know much about who I was or what I wanted, but, I know that I love you. And I’m sorry. If that isn’t how you feel then I’m sorry for telling you and ruining our friendship. But I can’t let you move away from me before I at least say it.”

Sirius looked around the room, seemingly looking for the right thing to say. “Our friendship isn’t ruined,” he eventually settled on.

At this, Remus stood from the couch. “Okay, well, I think I’m going to go to bed now. Goodnight.” He turned away, trying to hide the red of his face. He might be able to make it to his room before crying.

“Remus, wait,” Sirius called out. Remus kept walking. 

After Sirius moved out, all Remus wanted to do was forget. A month after that, he got his wish. A blue car ran a red light and Remus woke up in the hospital with a broken wrist and a sudden lack of painful memories.

***

“I remember,” Remus whispered again.

“You do?” Sirius asked.

“Yes. San Diego. Scripps. What I said when we came back home.” With effort, he looked up into Sirius’s eyes. “But you moved out. You took the job at Scripps. And now you’re back. Why?”

Sirius looked surprised by the question. “You needed help.” 

“Sirius, you, you don’t live here anymore. Did you get your old job back? Do- oh my god, do our friends know? They must know. Were you ever going to tell me?”

“Remus, I’m sorry. I don’t know, okay? I don’t know what I was thinking, or what my plan was, but I just wanted to be there for you. You were hurting. And part of it was me being selfish too. Because I just wanted my best friend back.”

Wanted the best friend back who didn’t have a crush on him, he meant. Wanted the version of Remus that hadn’t confessed his feelings and ruined everything, ruined their last weeks of living together by being sullen and withdrawn, who insisted on everything being okay and not wanting to talk about it, while the person he was supposed to be supporting was planning a massive move and change by himself. 

At a loss for words, Remus just shook his head. He was on the verge of tears, but instead of feeling ashamed, he just felt confused. “I-” he started, then stopped.

“I’m sorry,” Sirius repeated. He was looking into Remus’s eyes. Pleading.

“I- I’m gonna go to bed,” Remus muttered.

At this, Sirius stood, looking like a kicked puppy. His wounded expression angered Remus, who should be the one wearing it instead. 

“Goodnight,” Remus said, clipped.

“Remus, I-” Sirius stuttered, pleading. 

“I said goodnight,” Remus whispered.

As Sirius left the room, Remus began to cry in silence.  _ Well, there it was, _ he thought. The memory he had been desperately trying to remember. Of him ruining his friendship with Sirius. And not only did he get to remember it, he got to recreate it too.


	4. -9 to 0

Afterwards, nothing seemed to change. Sirius made sure Remus took his meds. Sirius bought groceries, and Remus cooked. He toned down the spice. Sirius drove him to the bookstore, and he got a ride home with a coworker. They hosted a weekly game night. Remus still didn’t remember everything, but, for better and for worse, he remembered  _ the _ thing. 

Remus still had nightmares. He knew, because he began to remember those, too. He never woke up to find Sirius in bed next to him though. And eventually, after his wrist was mostly healed, and the lawsuits were mostly settled, and the memories were either there or not there, but he was able to get by, Sirius sat him down on one end of the couch and took the other for himself, and Remus knew what was going to happen, because he remembered it happening already.

“Remus,” Sirius said. 

“You’re moving at the end of the month,” Remus stated.

After a pause, Remus looked to his side to see Sirius nodding. “I’m moving back to San Diego at the end of the month, and returning to Scripps.”

“Okay.” 

“Okay?” Sirius questioned, and paused. “That’s it?”

Remus huffed a laugh without amusement. “What else is there Sirius? Tell me. Because I think I already played my cards. Twice, actually. Did you want me to embarrass myself again? Maybe stroke your ego a bit?”

“Remus.”

“You know, I-” Remus started. “It’s kind of funny, to be honest. Here I was, spending all this time, not knowing who I was, trying to remember my friends’ names, worrying about whether or not I was an asshole. And you didn’t even tell me the truth.”

“Remus,” Sirius said again, this time more desperate. 

“Why did you even come back? Why didn’t you just stay where you were? James and Lily could’ve helped me.” Why didn’t you stay where you were, out of my life, Remus added mentally. Bitterly.

“Remus, please,” Sirius gasped, and this time Remus turned to look at his current and future ex-roommate. Tears were welling up in Sirius’s eyes. A new memory popped up, of the two of them watching a sad children’s movie together, and Sirius crying.  _ Look, I still have both tear ducts, _ he had explained, and then they had dissolved into laughter. Remus pushed it away.

“What?” Remus demanded, but felt his resolve cracking. There was only so much pain you could witness in another person’s face without feeling anything, he knew. 

“Remus, I- I’m sorry. Please. I-” Sirius was fully crying now. “I don’t know who I am,” he added, stronger.

“What?” Remus asked. “I’m the one who got hit by the car.” He was trying to speak without emotion, but his curiosity was getting the better of him. What did Sirius mean?

“I mean, I-” Sirius’s voice broke. “I need to leave. I need to find myself. I’m sorry.”

Remus stared out the window. It was dark, and the streetlight glowed just enough to keep the stars from being visible. He reflexively grabbed his crucifix necklace. “What?” he whispered, mostly to himself.

“I-” Sirius started again, then stopped, breathing deeply. Remus realized he could see the other man in the reflection of the glass, and watched as he dragged a hand across his face. “For a long time now,” he began in a clearer voice, “I have been trying to find myself. I don’t really know what I identify as, what I- what my sexuality is.”

Remus held his breath.

“And I don’t think it’s something I can find out here. So I need to leave.”

Remus exhaled. “You can’t be with me.”

In the glass, Sirius blinked. “I’m sorry.”

Remus wasn’t sure what to say. Silence rang for a beat, and then two, and then the two men were sitting in it, surrounded by it. 

“Let me know,” Remus said finally, “when you find out.”

Sirius swallowed. “I will. You’re still my best friend.”

Remus nodded, suddenly feeling a burn in his throat.

“Don’t forget about me, when I’m gone.”

“I couldn’t,” Remus stated simply. But he could, because he had. But the difference this time was that he didn’t want to anymore. He wanted to remember Sirius, even the pain, and even the hard parts, because Sirius is his best friend. His best friend, who doesn’t speak Spanish, and has Microphthalmia. And Remus loves him. Even though Sirius doesn’t love him back. Because love isn’t fickle. And Remus knows this. And Remus will remember this.

Eventually, Sirius stood, presumably to make his way to his bedroom, or to the room that used to be his bedroom before Remus lost his memory, and will soon no longer be his bedroom again. Sirius whispered “goodnight,” and Remus nodded in return. Sirius may have added “I’m sorry” under his breath, or it may have just been a puff of air.

Remus stayed on the couch, processing. He didn’t cry while Sirius silently entered and left the room once more, depositing pills and a glass of water into Remus’s hands. He used his newly unbandaged left wrist to lift the glass. 

And then he cried. And then he went back to his room. And then he slept. And at the end of the month, Sirius left, again.


	5. 734

It was sunny, and he was squinting. 

That was the first thing Remus noticed. He noticed the way that he only shaded one eye, and the way that the sun glinted on his silver rings. He noticed the way he smiled: still carefree, still radiant. When he got closer, Remus noticed more things about him.

Remus noticed that he was slightly nervous. It was nothing like how they had last seen each other, or how they had last fought-- if it could even really be called that. But it was there. Maybe Sirius wasn’t nervous, but he was more… thoughtful. Remus could almost see the gears turning in his mind-- thinking  _ before _ speaking, the opposite of history. 

It was the first time they had seen each other in two years.

They hugged. The embrace was strong, both men holding tightly, as if afraid that they would drift apart again if they didn’t. As if Sirius was asking forgiveness for leaving; as if Remus could give it.

They still hadn’t spoken. 

“Hi,” Remus finally said, into Siruis’s shoulder.

“Hi Remus.”

Silence returned, and Remus let go first, prompting Sirius to follow.

“Hungry?” Remus asked.

“Yeah. Lead the way.”

Remus nodded and turned. He led them both out of the glass-domed train station and into the busy streets below. This loud city had become Remus’s home just a few weeks ago, but he had already found his favorite spot for lunch. 

They didn’t speak during the walk, but once they entered the bookstore Sirius gave Remus a confused smile. 

“Trust me,” Remus assured. 

Sirius quirked his eyebrows in response, and Remus had to bite his cheek to not smile too obnoxiously at the familiarity of it all. Up a new flight of stairs, and then past the giant collection of maps that doubled as an indoor balcony over the new releases section below, the cafe came into view for Sirius for the first time. “This is perfect for you, when did you find it?” 

Remus smiled. “About a week after I moved. I come here to write.”

Sirius nodded, as if he wanted to say  _ of course you do,  _ but didn’t want to overstep yet. They had texted just a few times over the years, but it had been a bit formal. Once, about a month after moving back to San Diego, Sirius had referenced an old inside joke, and Remus hadn’t replied for exactly seven days. Afterwards, Sirius was more careful.

They ordered sandwiches and coffee at the counter, and then Remus took a seat at one of the circular bistro tables in the corner. An open window was nearby, with a lush green plant climbing along the sill. 

“I like that plant,” Sirius said after sitting down. 

“Yeah,” Remus agreed. 

Silence.

Mercifully, their coffees were called, and Sirius hopped up to retrieve them. Remus took a moment to drag a hand across his face. He was happy to see Sirius, he really was, but there was just so much that was unsaid. How do you say “so tell me about the last two years of your life” when you both know exactly how badly you parted?

“Remus. Thank you for agreeing to meet,” Sirius said, after carefully placing two cups on the table.

Surprised, Remus looked up. “I wanted to see you too, you know. I wasn’t just, like, doing you a favor or something.” He added a little laugh. It was aimed at casual, and may have even been perceived as such by most listeners. For Sirius though, who always knew Remus best, it was obviously forced. 

Sirius nodded, and took a sip of his coffee.

“I mean, obviously, I--” Remus frowned. “The other times it just, didn’t-- I mean. I’m glad to see you now.” The other times-- the other  _ several _ times, Remus meant-- that he had declined or ignored Sirius’s offers of meeting again. 

“I’m sorry that I left on such bad terms,” Sirius spoke, calmly. “I wish we could have been there for each other more over the last two years.”

“Well,” Remus snapped. Sirius looked up, because he knew exactly what would be coming if Remus used that tone of voice. Sort of clipped, but also almost amused. “I was told that I  _ couldn’t _ be there for you. Because you needed to be away from me.”

Sirius sighed. Remus waited for him to retort somehow, but, surprisingly he stayed silent. Remus almost wanted to hear it. At least then it would have been more familiar; it wouldn’t be this new, possibly mature version of his former best friend.

“Can I tell you something?” Sirius asked.

Remus nodded slowly, watching as the other man fiddled with the rings on his fingers.

After a deep breath, Sirius spoke clearly. “I identify as demisexual, meaning that I can only experience sexual attraction to someone after an emotional bond has developed.”

Remus nodded again. “Okay.”

Sirius looked at him with wide eyes for a moment.

“Sorry, um,” Remus started again. “Thank you for telling me. I support you, one hundred percent, and that is a totally fine identity for you to have.”

“Thanks,” Sirius breathed.

“I guess I never actually came out to you,” Remus said. “But I told James and Lily eventually. And Marlene and Dorcas. But, I’m gay.”

Sirius nodded. “That’s great, Rem.”

Remus almost laughed. “So.”

“I’m moving here to do my PhD.”

“What?”

“I-- well I haven’t officially accepted yet, but I’m going to start my PhD at Ilvermorny in the fall. In a lab studying ocean acidification.”

“That’s,” Remus said. “Great. Congratulations.”

“Thanks. How has it been at Beauxbatons? You’re about to start your second year of your graduate program, right?”

“Yeah, I am. It’s, like, three blocks away from Ilvermorny? Wow. Yeah.”

“Remus, I’m sorry. I’m sorry for how we left things, and I’m sorry that I couldn’t give you what you wanted back then. I’m sorry that I didn’t tell you the truth after you lost your memory, and I’m sorry that you had to go through the experience of losing it at all. But I’ve missed you. So much. And without me trying to tell you who I am to you anymore, let me just ask this: can I please be a part of your life again?”

Remus had absentmindedly grabbed his necklace during Sirius’s words, and was now holding it tightly, feeling the metal dig into his palm. Remus heard himself respond. “Yes. You can. I’d like that.”

Sirius smiled, and Remus was reminded of the sun bouncing off of him back in the train station. He lit up the little cafe with his smile, and Remus reveled in it. “Thank you.”

***

After their lunch, Remus put up a few old walls. He ignored Sirius’s follow-up text for a day, and then responded more formally than necessary. Sirius immediately texted back, and mentioned he was spending the day looking for an apartment. Remus didn’t reply.

He told himself that it was for the best, and that he would be able to talk to Sirius again eventually, but maybe not until his ex-best friend had found housing in the city. Remus didn’t trust himself to do the right thing if Sirius asked him about moving in together, and he didn’t know if he could believe Sirius was here to stay until he knew he had signed a lease. 

Most of all, he didn’t know what he was doing. Just talking to Sirius again seemed like a recipe for disaster, but talking to him again while also forcing himself to be cold and distant felt even more unnatural. Remus knew that he liked Sirius, and on many levels was very glad to have his friend back in the same city. But on a few others, he was still hurt. And afraid of being hurt even more.

A week went by before Sirius cornered him at the bookstore cafe. 

“Remus, please, just hear me out.”

Surprised, Remus nodded in encouragement. “I’m here,” he said dumbly. “Go ahead?”

Sirius nodded to himself and took a deep breath. “Sorry, I-- hold on.” He stopped to swing his backpack off of his shoulders, and took a quick glance up at Remus after it hit the ground. Unable to stop his small huff of amusement, Remus gave up and sat down.

“I’m not running away, look.” Remus held his palms up towards Sirius for emphasis.

“Okay. Can I just-- let me read you something.” Remus noted Sirius’s novel hesitancy, and was once more intrigued by the other man’s changes over the last two years. He longed to know all of the other ways in which things had changed in Sirius’s life. Was he more or less confident? Was he still the center of attention in social settings? Does he still have a mug of coffee at the start of every day, standing in the middle of the kitchen, refusing to sit or begin making the breakfast he undoubtedly wanted until the mug was drained?

“Dear Remus,” Sirius started. He suddenly looked up and gave a tiny laugh. “I addressed it because I thought I would send it. But then I didn’t know your address. And I didn’t want to ask you. But I’m rambling now.”

Surprised once more, Remus just nodded.

“Dear Remus, I’m sorry. I’m sorry for everything that I have done and not done that has caused you undue pain. Truthfully, I would love to live in a world where you never experience any pain at all, because I know that you do not deserve it. You are kind, and selfless, and warm. And you have made my life so, so much better. 

“These last two years have been difficult, but they’ve allowed me to grow in a lot of ways that I now recognize I needed. Back then, I wasn’t actually as self-confident and content as I let on. I think you must have known, though, because you always knew me better than myself.” He flicked his gaze back up towards Remus momentarily, and Remus’s breath hitched. With nothing to do or say, he continued to squeeze his necklace.

“You waited for me, and cared for me, and gave me everything I didn’t know I needed, or thought I deserved, for all those early years of our friendship. And I loved the way things were. I hated leaving, the first time, so much. I hated losing what we had-- our routine, our jokes, our arguments. And I know now that I was the one who threw them away, not you. You were honest with me about how you felt. That didn’t harm our friendship. I wasn’t able to be mature about navigating through change or being receptive to it. That did harm our friendship.” Sirius paused to take an audible deep breath.

“And when I had the chance, I wasn’t honest with you. I didn’t tell you about the last few months of our friendship leading up to your accident, because I was afraid, and because I was selfish. And I know that wasn’t enough. And I’m sorry. But I’m not writing this to ask for your forgiveness; I’m writing this to finally be honest with you too.”

Remus felt his stomach twist, but he remained silent, glued to his chair.

“When I came back after your accident, I told myself I was going to try. I was going to try to feel the way that you felt about me. Because I cared for you, and I longed for our closeness again. But I couldn’t make that happen back then. I was way too wrapped up in my family’s expectations of right and wrong, and had been conditioned to think in so many backwards ways. And that’s not an excuse. But I couldn’t keep stopping you from seeing the rest of the world because of it.

“And so I left. And I think I finally figured myself out. I love you too, Remus. I love you so much. And I miss you so much. And I don’t know where this leaves us. And I’m so, so utterly sorry. But if I’m two years too late, then please, please let me wait. Let me just be in your life again, as your friend, or even as someone you’re still trying to learn to trust. Because I’m here, and I’m not going to leave again. So please, Remus, tell me what you need me to do, and I’ll do it for you. I’m sorry, and I love you, and I don’t want to keep missing you.” Sirius took another breath, and Remus-- whose eyes had been trained on the tabletop for quite some time-- finally looked up to find tears on his face. “Signed, Sirius.”


	6. 734.5

Remus felt frozen in his chair. A silence stretched between them as Sirius made no move to wipe the tears from his face. 

“Sirius, I--” Remus started, then finally looked around him, instead of just focusing on the dull glint of the table top or Sirius in front of him, and noticed all of the other people going about their lives. “Are you free for the next few hours?”

If Sirius was surprised by the question, he didn’t show it. “Yes.”

“Come to my apartment with me?” Remus asked. “It’s less public,” he offered, then winced at the possible implications. Communication felt hard right now, the way it was when he was operating on only a portion of the shared memories of his friends after his accident. “To talk.”

Sirius nodded stiffly, and repeated himself quietly. “Yes.”

Remus knew he wouldn’t remember the walk back to his apartment, and he wasn’t surprised to suddenly find himself in front of the door to his studio apartment, standing next to Sirius. Being suddenly reminded of his amnesia, he couldn’t help but laugh slightly. Shaking his head, he unlocked the door. 

Looking around the kitchen, Remus tried to think of something neutral to say. “Water?” he eventually asked.

“Sure. Thanks.”

Remus poured a glass and handed it over. 

Sirius gave a huff of amusement as he lifted the glass to his lips. Remus decided to look away from the bob of Sirius’s throat as he drank. “What?” he asked, once he heard Sirius set the glass down.

“You still have the same water filter.”

“Well. Not the  _ filter,  _ but the  _ pitcher, _ yeah.”

“It’s good,” Sirius announced. “Some things don’t change.”

Remus felt his cheeks warm, remembering why they were here in the first place. “Well, some things don’t biodegrade either, so.”

“Now who's sounding like the bio major?”

“Marine bio,” Remus couldn’t stop himself from muttering. In response, Sirius smiled brightly.

Suddenly remembering that he was the host, Remus moved over to the living space section of the apartment and took a chair, offering the loveseat to Sirius.

“Sirius, I--” Remus started, then stopped. “You’re moving here to do your PhD.”

Sirius nodded.

“You signed a lease.”

Another nod.

“And--” Remus stuttered. “You’ve figured out what you want?”

“I want you.”

Remus’s heart clenched. 

“Am I too late?” Sirius had pulled off all of his rings, and began putting them on again-- a habit that Remus knew only occurred when Sirius was at peak nervousness. “Please just tell me; I’ve been dying ever since I read that to you.”

The apartment, usually filled with ambient noise from an appliance or a neighbor, suddenly felt oddly quiet. 

“I don’t know, Sirius,” Remus answered truthfully. 

“Is there someone else?”

“There’s never been anyone else.” 

Sirius nodded slowly.

“I love you too,” Remus whispered. “I always have. But I don’t know how.”

Sirius’s smile was soft but bright, as if he had just heard the best news in the world. “Well? I don’t think I know either,” he offered.

Remus picked at the edge of his armchair. The end was beginning to fray and he was only making it worse. “We can figure it out?”

“Take it slow?”

Remus huffed a laugh. “We’ve known each other for eight years. I’d say that’s already pretty slow.”

“So kiss me.”

Remus felt his breath hitch. A few feet away from him, Sirius looked him in the eye. His eyebrows weren’t raised in a challenge, and his smile wasn’t crooked in jest. Remus drew his eyes away from him and towards the dust that clung to the base of the coffee table. He laughed again, inexplicably, and felt tears form in his eyes. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Sirius nodded.

Remus knew he wouldn’t remember the walk over to the couch, and he wasn’t surprised to suddenly be seated next to Sirius. He was surprised, however, to see the wet shine in the other man’s eyes. Remus swallowed. 

Sirius just smiled at him, looking tragically beautiful, tear-laden eyes and all. It was the encouragement he needed. It was the same encouragement that he had been lucky enough to have after his accident. It was the love that had gotten him through amnesia, and a broken wrist, and nightmares. It was the love that he always wanted, despite somehow already having.

Remus leaned in, and let their lips brush gently. He pulled back with a quiet sigh.

Before he could create much more than a few inches of space between them, Sirius surged forwards again. His kiss was bruising, and desperate, which was perfectly fine with Remus. Their hands went to each other’s hair, and then to run along each other’s torso-- the strength of Sirius’s shoulders and the small of Remus’s back. 

Remus hooked a finger into the collar of Sirius’s shirt, and Sirius broke the kiss. Gently touching foreheads, Sirius caught his breath, still beaming, and Remus moved his hand from Sirius’s collar to instead wrap around him in a hug.

“Thank you,” Sirius whispered.

Remus just hugged him tighter.

“Can we make this work?” Sirius asked.

“Yes,” Remus immediately replied. 

“What do I need to do?”

“Just be you,” Remus said. “Be here.”

“I’m here.” One of Sirius’s hands left Remus’s back, presumably wiping away his tears. “Can you trust me again?”

“I already do. Which is scary.”

Sirius breathed. “I’m not going to run away again. Let’s just-- go slow?”

“Kissing?” Remus asked.

“Is that okay?”

“More than okay.”

“Okay.” Sirius exhaled, and Remus felt it. Time felt frozen in place as they sat on the loveseat in Remus’s studio apartment, in a new city, seven hundred and thirty-four days after Sirius left for the second time. 

Sirius turned his head to kiss Remus on the cheek. Remus melted. 

***

Sirius left an hour later. He had a meeting with his new lab group, the existence of which thankfully reminded Remus that he needed to prepare notes for the meeting with his graduate program supervisor in the morning. It also allowed Remus to try to process. 

Remus set a timer for thirty minutes as he opened the top drawer on his nightstand. He withdrew the old composition book, tucked away in the back, and one of the several pens, rolling around in the front. Writing down his emotions and processing them had become so familiar ever since his amnesia, but now, he didn’t know where to start.

The last two years had been hard. But they had also been good for growth. It hurt to remember how much he had lost in terms of his friendship with Sirius, but he didn’t want to forget it anymore. 

He went on first dates, and seconds, but not thirds. He had one night stands, and awkward mornings after. He had become okay with himself. Maybe not the happiest, or the proudest, but he was okay. His dates and one night stands and mornings after never looked like Sirius; by design, not mistake. Although, Remus reasoned, there weren’t many people who looked like Sirius.

Sirius, who had kissed him. In his apartment. Who had told him that he loved him, and wanted him. Whose lips Remus couldn’t yet assign adjectives to, but could learn to, and whose life Remus would still be able to learn more about. And to learn from. To grow.

Many of his journal pages were filled with simple lists, simply titled  _ you.  _ Remus started a new one now.

_ You aren’t an asshole. _

_ You are a pescetarian. _

_ You are a graduate student studying history at Beauxbatons University. _

_ You got hit by a car. But your wrist healed, and your memory came back. _

_ You didn’t move on, but you did move. And you’re a good person. And you’re honest.  _

_ You’re bilingual, Catholic, and gay. And that’s okay. And your mom loves you all the more for it. _

_ Sirius came back. _

_ He loves you. You kissed. And he kissed you on the cheek. _

_ It isn’t simple, and it probably won’t be. But you’re both going to make it work.  _

Remus breathed, looking around his small apartment. He only had a few minutes left on his timer to spend processing before he would have to open his laptop for work. He thought back to one of the first things he had written, and looked down to his current list now.

_ Sirius is your best friend.  _

_ Maybe he’s more than that, but maybe he always has been.  _

_ And he’s taking you out for a “proper dinner date” tonight at five thirty.  _

_ And you’re happy. _

**Author's Note:**

> This story was inspired by a Moth Podcast. The story was [Deja Vu, Again,](https://themoth.org/stories/deja-vu-again) told by Cole Kazdin. 
> 
> Come say hi on Tumblr! Here is a link: [@halictus-writer](https://halictus-writer.tumblr.com)


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